


An Excellent Bitch

by chaos_ineffable



Series: Good Omens 30th Anniversary [11]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is a Little Shit (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a Tease (Good Omens), Crowley is Whipped (Good Omens), Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Good Omens 30th Anniversary, M/M, Name-Calling, Post-Canon, Slight Dirty Talk, Sort Of, Tea Parties, but in a way meant to be sexy, the word bitch is thrown around a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24228727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaos_ineffable/pseuds/chaos_ineffable
Summary: It comes as a surprise to him, three months after the apocalypse, when an invitation to a tea party appears in his flat. It’s from the angel, the swoopy cursive and green wax stamped on the front clear signs of Aziraphale’s touch. He hopes Aziraphale is joking but goes to the bookshop anyway. He has nothing else going on, after all.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens 30th Anniversary [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1729684
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	An Excellent Bitch

**Author's Note:**

> During the Victorian Era, the word bitch was used to refer to people who poured the tea or hosted tea parties.
> 
> I think this falls under a T rating but if anyone disagrees, please let me know and I'll change it. There's some implied stuff and some dirty talk in the form of name calling but that's it. Also if there are any tags that you think need to be added, please let me know.
> 
> The prompt is 'Old Fashioned'.

Crowley wasn’t one for tea parties. He wasn’t a fan of tea, which automatically made any kind of tea party droll and pointless. He also always found himself getting bored halfway through. There’s only so much polite small talk a demon can listen to before said demon needs to cause a raucous.

However, like with most things, Crowley will grudgingly sit through an entire tea party without saying a word if Aziraphale asks him to. Crowley has never been able to say no to those big blue eyes and pouty pink lips and a few hours of sipping tea and talking about the weather won’t change that.

It didn’t hurt that most of the tea parties Aziraphale made him endure were attended only by the two of them. Still, Crowley was relieved when the practice went mostly out of fashion and Aziraphale stopped inviting him to the blasted things. 

It comes as a surprise to him, three months after the apocalypse, when an invitation to a tea party appears in his flat. It’s from the angel, the swoopy cursive and green wax stamped on the front clear signs of Aziraphale’s touch. He hopes Aziraphale is joking but heads to the bookshop anyway. He has nothing else going on, after all.

“Hey, angel. Got your invite. What’s with the old-timey event?” The bookshop is quiet except for the soft sounds of Aziraphale puttering around the backroom.

“Hello, dear!” the angel calls, his head popping into view just long enough to beam at Crowley before he disappears again. “It’s been so long since we sat and drank tea just for the joys of drinking tea. I thought it could be a fun!”

Crowley grimaces. “Right. Fun.”

“Stop making that face,” Aziraphale reprimands lightly.

Crowley grimaces harder out of spite.

“You had fun when we had our little tea parties. Don’t try and deny it. You always were an excellent bitch.”

Crowley staggers into a bookshelf.

“You poured the tea beautifully every time! Of course, with wrists like yours I suppose it’s not difficult to make anything look elegant. But I do miss watching you.” Aziraphale is prattling on as if I didn’t just one-shot Crowley with a single word. “Would you be willing to bitch the pot again? It would make me ever so happy.”

Crowley can’t handle this. “Angel,” he growls. He is horrified when the word turns into something that sounds an awful lot like a whimper.

Aziraphale comes into view, his smile disappearing as soon as he sees Crowley, weak kneed and leaning against a bookcase. “Oh, Lord. Crowley, are you alright?”

Crowley shrugs helplessly. “M’fine. Just, y’know, wasn’t expecting…that.”

There’s confusion on Aziraphale’s face but only for a moment. Crowley can see when it all clicks into place. A small, barely perceptible smirk plays at the corner of Aziraphale’s mouth. He walks towards Crowley and lowers his voice, “You truly were the best bitch I ever had the privilege to drink with, my dear.”

He’s in front of Crowley now and the demon thinks he might discorporate. 

He leans forward and whispers, “I would even say you were my favorite bitch, darling.”

Crowley curses and reaches for him. They are both wearing far too much clothing and he intends to rectify that. 

Aziraphale dodges his hand and steps out of reach. “The tea is ready, dear.” His voice is back to normal but that smirk is still very present. He disappears into the backroom, pausing in the doorway just long enough to wink at Crowley and say, “All it needs is a good bitch to pour it.”

Crowley takes a moment to calm himself back down and follows the angel. He has a feeling he’s going to enjoy whatever Aziraphale has to throw at him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!


End file.
